


Bedtime Stories

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finally finds a way to tell Jim how he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories

Date: 1/21/98 

Disclaimers: (Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

Notes: I'm home sick today -- the truimph of the virus is your gain. Please be so kind as to blame any typos on the virus as well. 

## Bedtime Stories

by Katrina Bowen  


"Jim?" 

Blair gazed blindly up at the ceiling and waited and listened. Jim didn't call down, "For God's *sake*, Sandburg -- go to sleep, would you?" He didn't come rushing down the stairs, gun drawn, to charge headlong into whatever hideous dangers might be pouring out of the closet. He didn't even roll over, or sigh in exasperation, or pull the pillow over his head. Or if he did, Blair couldn't hear it. 

Still not raising his voice beyond a conversational level, Blair asked, "Are you awake?" 

No answer at all. 

Good. That meant it was safe. 

Closing his eyes, Blair rubbed his hands over his face. "Sorry I've been such a prick the past few days, man. It's just... I've been thinking about that... thing we talked about last weekend." 

That thing. Blair winced, wishing he could recall the words. "Not really the best way to phrase it, huh? Sorry. I'm usually better in situations like this. Okay, I haven't been in a *lot* of situations like this -- oh, shit. You're not buying this, are you? This is *so* not helping any. 

"Look, Jim. About Saturday. I didn't mean to blow you off like that -- I mean, not blow you off, that's not a good way to phrase it either -- geez, I'm on a roll, aren't I?" 

Falling silent as he stared into the shadows above, Blair waited. Still no answer. "You're asleep, aren't you? I knew it. I'm lying here, talking in your sleep. Well, you said we had to discuss this sooner or later. So I'm discussing. It's not my fault if you're not listening, is it?" 

Blair rolled over on his side and glanced at the clock. "Oh, *man.* Three in the morning. You're going to kill me, aren't you? Sorry about this. I wanted to talk to about it a couple times, but there were always people around, or you looked like you didn't *want* to talk about it, or...." Blair swallowed hard. "Okay. I was scared. Is that what you want to hear?" 

Still no answer. 

"I'm... sorry, Jim. I'm really sorry. I turned it into a joke on Saturday, and I'm really screwing it up now, and I shouldn't, I'm *sorry*. I know how hard it was for you to say those things to me, because -- because I've wanted to say them too, for a long time. But I kept on telling myself that there was no *way* you'd understand, much less feel the same way. So when you were the one to tell me you loved me -- I wasn't expecting that. Kind of knocked the wind out of me, Jim." 

Sighing, Blair pulled the blanket a little higher around his shoulders. "You couldn't give me a little warning, could you? No, you just launched right into a declaration of love over lunch. You're lucky I didn't choke. What good would that have done either one of us? At least I wouldn't have been the one who had to explain it to the paramedics. 'Well, you see, I told him I loved him, and that's when he started choking on the hummus.' Man. We're lucky we managed to avoid *that*, aren't we? 

"I'm doing it again, aren't I? Making a joke out of it.... Dammit, Jim, I *am* scared. I'm terrified. If we... start something, then that is *it.* I know I've got a history, and God knows you've ragged on me about it, but if it's you and me... it's going to be forever. And even if forever ends tomorrow, even if you get hit by a bus first thing tomorrow morning and I lose you... Oh, God. But that could happen anyway, whether or not we love each other -- not that there's any question about that on my side, in case you were wondering -- and if that happens, if I could just have one night of being in love, and both of us knowing it and not being too scared to admit it...." 

Blair trailed off. "Jim? Look, man, if you're awake up there, drop a shoe or something -- just give me some kind of a sign, would you?" He waited. Nothing. Miserably, he huddled deeper into the covers. "If you're asleep, well, then you're asleep and nothing I said matters. But if you really are awake... you don't have to come down here right now. You can...." Blair drew a deep breath and tried to steady his voice. "You can think about it until morning. Or you -- I don't have any way to know whether or not you're awake, do I? So if you want to be asleep, and never talk about this again, it's -- it's okay with me, man. I understand. Really." 

Closing his eyes, Blair curled up on his side and waited. He wasn't sure he heard footsteps on the stairs, and he wasn't sure that his door was slowly opened. But there was no mistaking the weight of another body joining him on the narrow bed, or the feeling of strong, warm arms wrapping around him, or the soft brush of someone else's breath on the side of his face, or the quiet whisper that went with the soft breath: "Chief, did anyone ever tell you that you talk too damn much?" 

And that was *all* Blair needed to be sure of.   
  


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